


You taught me how to value life

by Saltedkiss



Series: Saltedkiss' Camelove 2021 Contributions [3]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: But I suppose he is in terms of this fic, Camelove2021, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, Father-Daughter Relationship, Gen, He's not a major character when it comes to the show, Hurt/Comfort, So I tagged for Major Character Death anyways
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 16:54:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29335650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saltedkiss/pseuds/Saltedkiss
Summary: Dear Reader,You probably remember the tournament inThe Once and Future Queen. You probably remember Sir William of Deira. You might remember Arthur's infamous lack of cooking skills...But do you remember Myror?Do you remember the assassin who came to Camelot to kill the King's son? The one who was tasked to do so by a mourning father? The one who once bore the title of Most feared assassin in all the known lands?Because I do.-Written for Camelove2021 - Day 3: Wait... What? "It's Wednesday"Written for Merlinbingo - Square C5: Myror
Relationships: Myror & Amelia, Myror & OC (Merlin)
Series: Saltedkiss' Camelove 2021 Contributions [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2150835
Comments: 3
Kudos: 4
Collections: Camelove 2021, Merlin Bingo





	You taught me how to value life

“How long does she have left?” Myror asked the physician. He tried his very best to stay calm and keep the tremor out of his voice, but knew he’d failed when he saw the other man’s sympathetic smile. 

“If left untreated, I fear Amelia will not live to see the next full moon, sir,” the physician replied, looking down at the girl on the bed before him. 

Myror kneeled down by his daughter’s bed and placed a hand on her burning forehead. He pushed her hair back ever so softly, murmuring sweet nothings while doing so. He knew she was out of it, had been for a while now. Was sure she couldn’t have heard the man’s awful prognosis. Even so, he felt the need to soothe her, just as he’d done for years and years, ever since his wife had died and left him a single father. 

“Is there nothing to be done?” 

“There is one cure we could try, but it’s not cheap.” The physician looked around the small home Myror and his daughter lived in, his eyes resting on the worn furniture and threadbare sheets on the bed. 

“No matter the cost, I’ll pay it.” Myror winced at the panic in his voice. The physician looked him in the eye and nodded slowly, a look of understanding passed between them. 

“I’ve heard King Odin might have a job for a man with your... skills, Myror.” 

“I’m no longer a sword for hire. Haven’t been for a long time.” 

He hadn’t. Ever since becoming Amelia’s sole caretaker, Myror had taken to a different kind of work. He now worked for the merchant’s guild where he helped unload carts full of supplies. It was hard work and the pay didn’t come close to what he made as an assassin. But it was honest work, something he could proudly tell his little girl about. 

“If you want me to finish the draught in time, I have to buy the supplies tomorrow. The price, for you, old friend, is thirty gold pieces. If I don’t have them by morning, I fear there’s nothing left for us to do but pray.” 

*** 

Myror took a deep breath and entered the crypt after King Odin’s servant had announced his arrival. He looked over at the tomb behind the King, at the suit of armour on top of it. The one that had once been the King’s son’s. His eyes rested on the red and white shield adorned with King Odin’s crest. The room was lit by what must have been a hundred candles. The flickering lights made the scene even more sinister as they cast their long shadows on the tile floor. 

He looked at the King and saw the man’s sorrow etched in the lines of his face. The man who’d so recently lost his only child. The grief in these chambers strengthened Myror's resolve. He could not- would not let his daughter die. Whatever the job was, he’d do it and be done with it. One last job. And then he’d go back to living the mundane life he’d grown so fond of. 

“You are Myror?” the King asked. “Legend has it you are the most feared assassin in all the known lands.” 

Myror remembered those days. Remembered working hard and showing no remorse, until finally he had been worthy of this title. It had meant a lot to him, once, the blood he’d had on his hands. The feeling of belonging, of being good at something. The reputation he’d built and managed to maintain. Not anymore. 

He didn’t care for lives lost. 

Not anymore. 

“Tell me, are you as ruthless as they say you are?” the King asked. “You would kill anyone?” 

Myror wondered who his target would be. He’d been asked to kill nobles before and was no stranger to the intricate games played at court. When he spoke, his voice was cold. “I have killed many people. They are all the same to me.” 

“You are prepared to kill royalty?” 

_Of course the King would need a show of strength_ , Myror thought. He figured the best way to do so was to take out one of the King’s personal guards. “My Lord,” Myror said, careful to voice his next words in such a way the guard would definitely hear the threat in them but just so that it wouldn’t earn him a death sentence, “you would already be dead had someone placed a bounty on you.” 

The King’s guard did as expected and drew his sword. Myror repressed a smile as he got into his first proper fight in what must have been years. He felt adrenaline course through his veins as he dodged the guard’s attack. He made quick work of disarming him and heard his blood sing at the familiar feeling of holding a sword in his right hand. To say he hadn’t missed this, would be a blatant lie. 

The King looked impressed enough and tossed a bag of coins in Myror's direction. He was quick to catch them, exhaling in relief with the knowledge Amelia would be safe. The King’s next words never really registered. For a moment, Myror thought he’d heard him say his target was the Prince of Camelot. 

*** 

“Daddy?” 

Myror swallowed back a sob. It had worked. She was awake. She'd live.

“Hi, baby. I’m here.” He pressed her to his chest as gently as he could. “I’m here.” 

“I had such bad dreams, daddy.” 

“I know, baby girl. You’re fine now.” 

They hugged for a long time, until finally Myror let go. “Daddy has to leave for a little while.” 

His heart ached at the confusion in her sky-blue eyes. 

“I’ve got work to do. But I’ll be home soon, okay? I’m going to leave you here with aunt Myla. She’ll take good care of you, alright?” 

Amelia nodded. “How many nights until you’re back?” 

Myror took a sheet of parchment and a lump of coal. He drew 10 boxes on the parchment and handed it to Amelia. “Every night, before you go to bed, you cross one of these out, like so,” he said as he placed the piece of coal in Amelia’s hand and guided it until she’d placed a cross on the parchment. “I’ll be back before you cross out the last one.” 

“Okay. Can I go back to sleep now?” 

“Of course, baby. I love you.” 

“I love you too, daddy.” 

*** 

Myror tightened his grip on his white stallion’s reigns. This was it. The time had come. He felt bad for the young Prince. Wondered how long it would take for people to figure out who this William of Deira actually was. If they ever did. 

_Would King Uther get to mourn his child_ , he wondered. The servant boy would probably inform people of Sir William’s true identity soon enough. He pitied the King, knowing he’d traded Amelia’s life for Prince Arthur’s. Not enough to back down.

He narrowed his eyes and smirked beneath his helmet when he noticed how the Prince leaned to one side. He’d definitely hit him good. It wouldn’t take much to finish the job. Wouldn’t take much at all. 

He pulled the stallion’s reigns until it reared and spurred it on, eager to start galloping before the Prince did. He leaned forward and breathed in his horse’s scent. Faster, he thought. Faster. 

Suddenly, Myror heard something rip. _The girth_ , he thought as he approached the ground. _The girth must have torn._

He heard something snap and then everything went black. 

Myror looked up at the sky before closing his eyes for the last time. _So bright_ , he thought. _Just as bright as Amelia’s eyes._

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for being here and for taking your time to read my work. The song I used for the title is "Dad" by K's Choice. I highly recommend listening to it, if you don't know it already. 
> 
> Feel free to let me know what you think.  
> -  
> Thanks, Effie, for your kind words and support.


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